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User blog:Joeaikman/Ten Hated Wikians - Chapter 6
There was her face on his magazine. Her oh so beautiful face. He stroked it gently with his thumb, hoping against all hopes that it would turn into the real thing. She was the prettiest girl he had ever seen, with a soft, pale face and a wondorously curvy body. He had first seen her years before, when she was still only sixteen. She had sat two rows in front of him in Geography, and he had fallen in love with her the moment that she walked though the door. He loved the way her long brown hair curled at the ends, and how she had to tuck it behind her ears when she was concentrating. He loved the way that she stood, seductive even when she wasn’t trying to be. Needless to say she had been voted prom queen, and GIR had continued to be smitten after graduation. She became famous after that, modelling for swimsuits and all the biggest fashion labels, and GIR had collected ever issue she had featured in. She had been married to Duke Dante Knightley, a member of the British aristocracy, and had given him one son. Recently, however, she had caught him having an affair, and the two had divorced. Now she was single and GIR was ready to reveal his feelings to her once and for all. No doubt his infatuation with her would be returned, and the two would live happily until the end of their days. Drak had called him crazy, but Drak was gone now, and GIR was free to do exactly as he wanted to do. It was cold in the bush opposite her house, but he needed to wait for her to put her son to bed, and a light was still on in the young boy’s room. It was a large house with a gate and fence surrounding it. He had found a way to climb over in the gardens during one of his scouting trips, however. He rose from the bush, pulling his hood over his head, and started to walk around the side of the house, down a small footpath, muddy from the rain that had fallen the previous night. Soon they would be united at last, and then he wouldn’t have to hide behind hoods and masks any longer, because she would love him as he loved her. He had dreamed of the days many times, drawing out the pictures and sticking them next to all the photos he had collected on his wall. The light in her son’s room had gone off now, leaving him in the dark and meaning he’d now gone to sleep. Little baby Shopnil would have a new daddy soon, when he had revealed himself to Kitana and got her to accept his marriage proposal. He climbed over the fence and entered her garden, falling clumsily into the bush on the other side, but getting himself up quickly and quietly and creeping over to the wall. There was a water pipe running down from the roof right next to the window, and he shimmied up it surprisingly nimbly. He reached the window quickly, concealing himself next to the wall but peeping through the glass. He saw her step into the adjoining bathroom, and seized the opportunity to creep inside, hiding behind the curtain, she came out then, dressed only in a towel, and he knew that now was the time to reveal himself to her. “AHHHHH” she shrieked as she saw him, backing away from him as if she was repulsed by his presence. Her face was one twited with disgust, but he knew that this was simply a mask, that she was playing a game with him. He had sent her messages, she knew who he was, she loved him for the love he had given her. Dante had never given her love, just money and power and everything that she could ever want except love, and that was the most important thing. “Kitana, it’s me, GIR. I came here for you to give you all the love that I could ever want, to give Shopnil a father and to give you myself. I have loved you for years, you know that, you read the letters. I have loved you all my life Kitana, I want you to be my wife so we can live happily ever after in each other’s arms. Give me a hug.” He moved towards her, his arms outretched and a gleeful eye on his face as he finally got what he had wanted all these years. She would be his soon enough. “Get away from me, you creep!” He didn’t understand afterwards why she had slapped him then, all he had wanted was her to be happy with him. He also didn’t understand why she reached for the knife on the bedside table, or why she lunged for him with it pointed at his chest. He had done what he had to do, that was all. He wanted her forever and soon he would get her. He twisted her wrist so she dropped the knife and pulled her hands apart, allowing the towel to drop to the floor. He beat her to the knife on the floor and drove it through her neck as she tried to back off. She fell to the floor then, her sweet blood pouring from the wound in her neck. He went down with her, holding her weak hands as he had always wanted to do, squeezing her fingers and kissing her lips and her neck, the blood staining his lips. She was his finally, all of her, and all that made him was hers. The body started to cool after a while, but he stayed with her, hugging and kissing her as he had spent years fantasising doing. This had been the moment that he had been looking forward to for all of his life. - There had been nothing wrong with his body when they had found him, but he was dead all the same. Wach had checked the pulse, although he could hav been lying the body hadn’t moved. Joe was there too, he had been the first to find the body. Flats had been running, there was still sweat on the brow of the head and his face had been flushed when they found him. His body was unmarked and there wa no blood to be seen anyway nearby. He hadn’t been strangled like Bran, and it seemed very likely that his heart just stopped. How could a murderer have predicted him having a heart attack though? That wasn’t possible. There was more than this death than it initially seemed, Mat thought, and as he gathered around the cooling cadaver with Wach and Joe he started to think. There was him, these two, GIR, Sega and Assy left, although no one had seen Assy in while. Joe had already decided that he was the murderer, and that his absence proved his guilt, yet Mat just thought he was hiding from the monster that had done this to them. Where they a monster though? He had heard the stories about what Flats had done to Legion for trying to do an alternative horror series. He had thrown him on to the streets and allowed him to starve to death. Was it not fitting that this be judged with death also? Sega had killed Mocker in cold blood and Gliscor had died at Joe’s hands. Matoro himself had killed his love and buried him in the cold, hard ground. What if this murderer was just the souls of those they had wronged coming back to judge them justly and fairly. Did Icey hate him for what he had done to him? Why would he even know? “This is just another reason for why we should be hunting down Assy before another one of us gets killed off. It could be any of us. Me or you Wach, one of us could be the next in the poem.” Joe was complaining as vocally as usual, but Wach shook his head. He didn’t think Assy was the killer, or at the very least didn’t think that they should jump to a conclusion. The poor deluded fools, they didn’t realise that the murderer wasn’t of this earth, that th souls of their past were coming back to haunt them. - Wach was a fool if he didn’t see that Assy was the obvious choice for the killer. He stylised himself on a king known for his obsessive pursuit of justice for fucks sake. It was obvious that he had found out somehow about their past crimes and decided that they should be judged unfairly based on what he believed the will of Joffrey Baratheon was, or whichever of the fucking kings it was that he wanted to suck off. He was a psycho, and Wach was going to kill them all with his reluctance to hunt him down and bring him to justice before he tried to do the same to them. Assy wasn’t entirely innocent of murder himself, though. Brandon had told him of a rumour he had in turn heard once about the true king of Gondor, or wherever the fuck he was king of. Apparently Assy had lured his friend, Purple Kiren, into his house before setting it on fire, burning Purple alive, justifying it later as the “will of the Red God”. Poor Purple, he had been a pretty nice guy before Assy turned him into a crisp. Of course, Joe thought, he was hardly guilt free himself. He hadn’t entered that warehouse with the intent of killing Gliscor, it had just kind of happened. Glisc had tried to kill him, tried to posion his wine in revenge for acts he had done years before. He hadn’t even known Glisc was still alive before he got the letter demanding the meeting. He had told him that he was ready to apologise, and Joe had gone reluctantly, after being persuaded by his wife at the time, Nikki. He had gone, and Glisc had been killed in self defense, although he ordered his man to kill Nikki before he took his final breath. Matoro had gone very pale when he looked up and saw him. His face was white and clammy, a if he had seen a ghost in the room that they stood in. Wach was still looking at the body, trying to find some mark on the skin where there was a sign of breakage, convinced that some form of poison had been injected into his bloodstream. Joe had seen him before he died, although he did not want to tell the rest of the others that, and he had seen the fear in Flats’ eyes as he ran. He had believed that something was following him as he ran down that corridor, and whatever it was he had believed that it killed him. “Look at this!” Wach was holding a scrumpled up piece of paper that he had found in the back pocket of Flats’ trousers. It was a picture, in a similar style to the one that they had found on the corpses of all the other victims. Coupe’s had shown him with Steeler, Nail’s had shown Andrew and GG and Brandon had shown a picture of the back of a girl’s head. None of the others had recognised her, but Joe had known her by sight, yet it had been something else he had kept quiet about. He didn’t want to draw unnecessary attention upon himself and cause the others to falsely suspect him of committing the murder. Flats’ showed him with Legion, the recently deseased frowning whilst Legion smiled proudly. Joe remembered where this was from: the reveal of Legion’s Alternative Horror series. - GIR was cowering behind Sega as they approached the CCTV room, looking down at the floor the whole time. Unlike the others he had remembered the poem. One would look up, and he was determined not to do so ever if it meant saving his own life. Right now Sega was his muscle, protecting him from any would be killers, shluld they attack them, and whilst the two were together neither could be suspected in any murder. He remembered the blood on his lips and her lifeless body. He had got what he had always wanted and he had been cursed afterwards. They had never found out, of course, even with the money that Dante piled into finding out who had murdered his former wife. That was the word they had used in the newspaper. Was it a real murder when all it had been was him loving her a little bit too much. Years later he had read th news that Dante had been arrested for fraud and embezzlement, and months after that they found him dead in his cell, having committed suicide during the night. GIR had kept an eye on Kitana’s little boy, as he knew that she would have wanted. His biggest fear in here was that he would never see sweet little Shopnil again. Of course Shopnil hadn’t known that he was being followed, and in that way GIR had been like his guardian angel, protecting the young orphan from all of life’s miseries. He had chased away the slut that he had his first kiss with as she was not up to the standards that his mother would have wanted, and when he had failed to get the grades he had needed to get into college it had been GIR who had put the knife to the throat of the man marking them. He was protecting his baby boy, and he wanted to be able to continue doing it after here. He carried on looking down. - I’m coming for you had been what it said, and Matoro had instantly known that it had been written in blood by Icey. He was coming for him to bring him the judgement he so richly deserved. That had stopped him from trying to run, however. No matter how far away we got from the wall that it had been daubed on the message was still there, written in blood on his eyelids and in the corners that he tried to hide. He had called out, but no one had hear him, or at leats they hadn’t come to save him from the ghosts of his past, and if they had come they might not have been able to do so anyway. Could a mortal man fight a ghost? Could they be vanquished by our flesh and blood hands? “I’m coming for you, Matoro. Running won’t help.” That was his voice, that was Icey, who was long dead, yet here he was talking to him. Had he survived, or was this really the ghost of his former friend following him for justice. He passed another corner and heard the voice again. “Run, run, as fast as you can, you can’t escape me because I. Am. BACK!” Matoro fell to the floor, crawling back against the walls, cowering from what was coming for him. “Quick, Matoro, up here!” That was Joe’s voice, calling down from a ventilation shaft above him. A rope ladder fell down from above, and Matoro leaped for it, pulling himself up and towards the opening above him. He looked down below him to see if he could catch a sight of the ghost, but all he could see was a trapdoor in the corridor that had opened directly beneath him. He grabbed a tight hold on the ladder and hanged in the air, not wanting to drop into the deep darkness below him. He looked back up to the hole in the ventilation shafts above him, expecting to see Joe hauling the ladder up. Instead what he saw was horrific and caused him to let out a shriek. A knife slashed at the ropes of the ladder. He felt it shake as the first rope was cut, and when the second one was cut he fell down, stretching his arms to try and grab on to something, but all he could grab was thin air as he dropped into the whole beneath him. He hit the bottom with a thud, the impact temporarily winding him as he rolled over. When he eventually managed to pull himself to his feet, looking up at the hole he could see that the light was slowly fading as the corridor fixed itself, the doors of the trapdoor closing above him. He called out one last time before the light finally went, closing him off from the outside of the world, and after that Matoro saw nothing but darkness. Six Hated Wikians, mind’s too confused to survive Matoro was left looking above, and then there was five Category:Blog posts